


At the Beginning

by IrisofParadise



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Marvel
Genre: Anastasia AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7996027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrisofParadise/pseuds/IrisofParadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natalia never knew where she came from or what happened to her memory and family, but she always believed that she was destined for bigger things and was meant to find her family if the pendant she wore was any indication. </p><p>Yelena is a former palace worker and just wants to cash in on the reward for returning the lost princess to her aunt. </p><p>Or, the widow wives Anastasia au that no one asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a huge nerd and honestly just need more widow wives in my life and I love Anastasia aus and decided why not. I do take huuuge artistic liberties with this as I am not following the movie point for point and am throwing a bit of historical accuracy in here. Not much for obvious reasons but a few.  
> Side pairings will include but are not limited to carterwood (because I'm garbage) and mattimir (because I'm trash).  
> I do call Dottie 'Darya' for this whole chapter because after much research on google I found that the 'Russian equivalent' of the name 'Dorothy' was 'Darya/Daria'. After the Bolshevik Revolution, the U.S. had the first Red Scare in 1919 and so Darya changes her name to Dorothy to sound more American.  
> Also, again, I always say that Alexei Romanov deserved better and yet again I kill him. Alex is Natasha's brother from the book 'Black Widow Forever Red' by Margaret Stohl.  
> I did go with brown eyes for Yelena since my bestie adores Lena with brown eyes.

The year was 1917, February to be exact, and the Romanov family was hosting a grand party to its family and members of its imperial court. Within the Peterhof Palace the party was in light, bright and shimmering. A stark contrast to the cold and bleakness, ominous to any who truly paid it any mind, outside its very doors.

Women in dresses that glittered nearly as much as their jewels they wore giggled demurely as men just as dressed up as they themselves were handed them sparkling glasses of crystal filled with bubbling champagne or asked them to dance.

The brightness and warmth of the party was a comforting distraction to the people within the palace walls but all it does is make the people on the outside that much more angry and unbeknownst to the Imperial Court a revolution has been brewing for quite some time. But for now the royal family ignores the feeling of unease, thinking it just paranoia over the war in Europe.  

A small ten year old girl runs through the halls, her laughter bouncing off its walls. At just the young age of ten the young princess already showed signs of beauty. Long fiery red hair that she had tied back bounced and swayed as she ran and skipped, her laughter never ceasing. Bright green eyes that shone brightly in her amusement. The very way she held herself made it very clear that she was born of nobility.

A younger child, this one a boy, runs after her with a happy cry of, “Natasha! Natasha come back!”

She turns quickly, dress spinning out and shimmering under the lights, and sticks her tongue out teasingly to the six year old. “Come and catch me, Alyosha!”

The siblings chose to ignore the party in favor of continuing their game of chase with Natalia in the lead and yelling in delight as Alexei failed to catch her. Servants watched them in both worry and amusement, hoping that neither would fall and hurt themselves, or worse, tear their clothes, for then the queen would be horribly upset. The game lasts for another few minutes until their mother finds them. The Tsarina tries to look stern and disapprovingly at her children but when they just look up at her sheepishly, Olga smiles at them.

“You two know you are not supposed to be running through the palace like little uncivilized hooligans,” she lightly reprimands, voice still too soft to come across as truly upset.

But it gets the job done and Alexei and Natalia bow their heads slightly, almost looking truly apologetic all but for the grins they could not seem to rid themselves of. Olga notices the grins and rolls her eyes before she can stop herself, purely amused, and tilts her head in a gesture for the young princess and tsarevitch to follow her to the ballroom where the party was being held.

Her youngest let out a happy yell and followed after her for a few moments before finally catching up to his mother and slipping his hand into hers. Natalia waited just a moment more before following at  a slightly slower pace, smiling in joy at her mother’s back.

The Tsarina so rarely looked as happy as she did this night. That wasn’t to say that she was sad, no, she just suffered terrible headaches. Headaches that seemed to have gotten worse and even begun to take a toll on her physical health since the war. The people so rarely were able to see their queen, and it was no secret that she was ill more often than not. But this night everyone would see how amazing and beautiful she was in her gown of gold and purple and silvers. Oh how she glimmered and shone, much like the stars, Natalia thought to herself.

“Your Aunt Darya will be here any moment now,” Olga says, tone still soft and warm.

Natalia lets out a happy squeal and claps her hands in excitement which makes her mouth let out a small laugh. Darya was Natalia’s beloved aunt, her father’s elder sister, and had moved to New York only a year and a half before the war had begun and Natalia had only been able to visit once. And since the war, Darya had been unable to visit at all. So when the letters had come to Natalia and one to her parents saying that she would be coming for a visit, Natalia had been bursting with excitement ever since.

Once in the ballroom she took off dancing with anyone who would dance with her, hoping that if she kept herself busy and amused perhaps her aunt would show up quicker. But so few of her dance partners wanted to dance with the young princess for very long and her friends soon complained of their feet hurting and left her in favor of something else to do. But Natalia just nodded understandingly to her friends, not upset whatsoever and continued to be in a  grand mood. Soon enough she was saved from searching for a new partner when her father, Tzar Alian, picked her up and began spinning her, making her giggle and squeal in excitement. Her joy only rose when she saw her aunt wave at her from across the room as her father lifted her and spun her one more time, a bright grin on the woman’s face as she took in the sight of her beloved niece who had grown so much while she’d been away.

Still held high and feeling much like a bird, Natalia let out a laugh of, “Oh, Papa!”

Alian laughed as his daughter squirmed and quickly set her down, laughing even more as he watched her run off. No sooner had her feet touched the ground was she dashing across the ballroom, still careful to not run into anyone, to where her aunt was sitting on one of the thrones. Not one to forget her manners, Natalia gave a quick curtsy before hugging the woman.

Darya held her niece tightly. “Oh, darling! Look at how much you have grown, маленькая _(malenkaya/little one)_!”

Natalia gave a pleased nod before hugging her aunt once more. “I’m so happy you’ve come! How long are you staying?” She asked even though she already knew. Her aunt had said so in the letters, but she couldn’t help but hope that it would be longer than the one week.

Darya’s grin began to slip as she took in her precious nieces hopeful smile. It nearly broke her heart to say, “Only a week, little one.”

Natalia’s smile slipped, as Darya knew it would. “Oh, Aunt Dasha! Can’t you stay? Must you leave so soon?”

“You know I must go back to New York, Natasha.”

The red haired child gave a small nod. “I know. I just wish that you didn’t have to go.”

Darya lightly brushed Natalia’s bangs from her forehead, careful to not mess the child’s hair up or knock the kokoshnik made of light blue satin from her head. “I do too dear. But I must get back home. I have Peggy waiting for me.”

Natalia brightened up once more at the mention of the English woman. “How is Auntie Margaret? It’s been so long since she’s visited.”

At this Darya grinned and pulled her small handbag closer. “We have a present for you actually. We were going to send it for Christmas but decided it’d be best to give to you in person,” she said, producing a small jeweled box from her bag.

Little Natalia’s eyes widened in pure wonder as she took in the sight of the box. “For me?” she breathed out, eyes flitting between staring at her aunt to the box and back again. Darya let out a laugh in pure amusement before placing the box into her niece’s hands.

“Of course.”

Natalia looked it over, taking it is beauty. Small, almost oval in shape. Gold with emerald and ruby that glimmered when the light him them. Small, dainty pearls. It reminded her of the fabergé eggs that she and Alexei would receive on Easter from their father. “Is it a jewelry box?” She asked, looking up at her aunt.

Darya shook her head, a small laugh escaping. “No, darling dear.” She reached around her neck and removed the necklace she wore and used the small flower charm to open the box. As the music box opened Natalia’s eyes widened in glee as figures of her mother and father rose and began to spin slowly, looking as though they were caught in an eternal dance. At once music began playing softly, only loud enough for them to hear and Natalia let out a quiet squeal as she recognized the tune and the words began to slip from her with ease.

“On the wind. ‘Cross the sea. Hear this song and remember.” Her aunt grinned and joined her singing and Natalia let out a small giggle as Darya took her hand and spun her in time with the tinkling music. “Soon you’ll be, home with me. Once upon a December.”

The box closed on its own, the figures of Alian and Olga sinking back within.

“Read what it says,” Darya said, handing the necklace to her niece, pleased that the child enjoyed the gift.

Natalia frowned as she saw the words in English and screwed her face up, eyes squinting and nearly going cross eyed as she tried to focus on the small words. It took her a few moments of struggle, throughout all of which Darya remained patient, but she finally got out, “Together. In…. New York.” Another moment of silence before realization dawned on her and she whipped her head up to stare at her aunt, eyes wide. “Really?” At her aunt's nod she flung herself into her arms, nearly dropping the music box and necklace.

It took a few minutes of laughed out reassurances from Darya but she was finally able to assure the child that of course she meant it and yes, dear Alyosha could come too if her mama allowed.

“When?” Natalia asked, eyes bright and full of joy as she pulled back. She didn’t even give her aunt time to answer before she was excitedly asking in a rush, “Oh, please, do tell me when, Aunt Dasha!”

Darya just laughed again, too amused to be annoyed by the child’s eagerness. “Soon dearest! I promise. Why, maybe even at the end of my trip you could go with me? Would you like that?”

The squeal that Natalia let out was answer enough, hair bouncing as she nodded in excitement. “You’ll ask Mama tonight?”

Darya frowned just the slightest bit but hid it with a laugh of her own. “I will ask your papa tomorrow, first thing in the morning little one,” she corrected gently, tapping her niece on the tip of her nose.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like her sister in law but it was also no secret to any that Olga and Darya didn’t get along all too well. And Darya knew that at the mention of just one, let alone both if Alexei pleaded enough, of her precious children being taken to New York for a trip, no matter how short, Olga would more than likely fall into hysterics. Thus making Alian agree with his wife and say that his children could not go with his sister.

So Darya knew she would have better results if she spoke to her brother first and then if he spoke with his wife He would be able to assure her that the children would be safe with his elder sister and that it would only be for a short time and then the children would be back home in Russia.

And Darya wouldn’t admit it, not aloud at least, but she did not like the war going on so close to her old home and felt that her niece and nephew would fare better across the ocean with her, safe in New York. She couldn’t explain it but she felt as though the war in Europe was closer to their doorstep than any truly realized. She wished that she could just brush the feeling off but it just refused to leave. So she trusted her gut feeling and try to take her niece and nephew with her back to New York.

She would instead talk to her brother about wanting the children to visit for a little bit and wouldn’t bring up her paranoia, knowing that he would just roll his eyes at her. Peggy’s and her’s house could be quiet and she knew it would do nothing but please the Englishwoman to have the two small one’s filling their quiet home with laughter. It would be quite easy to get to Alian before Olga woke as well, for she and her younger brother had always been early risers while Olga could quite nearly sleep the day away. So with this in mind she nods to herself, pleased with her plan.

But Darya would never get a chance to speak with her brother. Right outside on the streets of St. Petersburg a riot has begun to grow steadily.

The princess and her aunt are so caught up in talking that they never once noticed the small blonde child watching in wonder at them and the extravagant party. The younger girl watched the royals curiously, found the young princess to be quite beautiful, but grew bored with watching her and instead turned her gaze back to the party.

She blinked and imagined herself as one of the royals or nobles out on the floor. Imagined herself in a glittering dress and dancing with noblemen. Imagined being able to eat some of the food on one of the tables or even being allowed to drink some of the sparkling champagne as she watched a young man hand a crystal glass to a boy just a handful of years older than her.

She didn’t get to enjoy her fantasy for long or even get to stare for much longer before she was being picked up by another servant much older and higher in rank than she herself.

“Yelena! What do you think you are doing? You belong in the kitchens!” He scolded, scowling as he was nearly punched by her flailing fist.

He ignored as she complained and flailed, for she knew that she’d been caught and was already going to be punished, why not drag it out?

~oOo~

Hours later Natalia jerks awake, the bright green eyes staring down at her nearly forces a scream from her. A scream that she only just barely manages to bite back when she realizes that it’s only her younger brother sitting on her pillows and watching her intently.

“Alyosha what on earth are you doing?” Natalia hisses out, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

Alexei said nothing, just shrugged and turned to stare out the window and watched the snow fall. It soon became apparent to Natalia that her brother is nowhere near as tired as he should be considering the hour. Alexei’s staring unnerves and causes for her to slowly sit up in worry.

“Alyosha? Солнышко _(solnyshko/sun)_?” Natalia asks, much more gentler than moments ago.

The child turns to her and looks thoughtful, far more thoughtful than a six year old should look, and says much too seriously, “What do you think will happen once we are gone, Natasha?”

The question unnerves her. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering her, he turns to stare once more out the window, watching the snow fall and thinks before settling on, “When Papa is no longer Tzar, what do you think will happen to Russia?”

A chill runs through Natalia’s very being. “Why are you asking such odd questions Alyosha?” At his shrug she purses her lips in thought before asking softly, “What is going to happen to us?"

Alexei shakes his head and just like that he looks like his usual self and gave a yawn, finally looking sleepy. “Natasha, can you carry me to bed?” he asked, arms reaching up and already knowing her answer.

The red haired girl gave a nod and carefully picked up the boy and quietly took him back to his room. He was asleep before they had even left Natalia’s bedroom and was snoring softly as she quietly padded down the elegant halls to his bedroom. Once her brother was placed into bed she made her way to wander to the library. She knew that if her mother were to catch her out of bed so late into the night that she would be scolded severely but Alexei’s words from moments ago haunted her. A distraction was needed and so to the library she went.

Her unease disappeared when she saw her aunt sitting on a plush loveseat and reading aloud to herself and a grin formed on Natalia’s face.

“Aunt Dasha!” She called out quietly. She giggled sheepishly when her aunt jerked slightly, completely unaware of the world around her.

Darya quickly calmed and smiled warmly at her niece, placing the book beside her, not caring enough about marking her place in it as she read it every time that she came home. “Natasha, what are you doing still awake, маленыкая?” When her niece looked down and picked at the sleeve of her gown Darya frowned in worry. “Is everything alright?"

Natalia shrugged. “Just a bad dream.” She said. “What are you doing still awake?”

The woman let out a sheepish hum. “I always have a difficult time sleeping when I first get home. Would you like to sit with me?”

Instead of a verbal response Natalia moves to sit beside her aunt and Darya picks the book back up and began reading once more, the French slipping from her easily. The comforting tone and light vanilla scented perfume begin to lull Natalia to sleep and it’s only right as she is on the brink of sleep that she is once again jerked back to the land of wakefulness when one of the palace guards runs in, door slamming open loudly and shattering the peacefulness.

“Your highness, we must leave immediately!” He yells, eyes wide in fear and chest rising and falling rapidly as he gasps for breath.

While Natalia stares at him in confusion, Darya has already jumped to her feet. “What’s happening?”

“The palace is under attack! We must leave!” The guard repeats urgently.

Darya wasts no time, grabs Natalia’s hand and yanks the still sleepy child to her feet and begins to follow after the guard. Natalia wakes fully as a rush of people swarm everywhere, running and screaming. Gunshots are heard outside, some are even heard within the palace not too far from them and people shriek as a guard falls to the floor, blood beginning to pool around his prone figure and staining the once clean floor.

Natalia screams, eyes squeezing shut and trying to forget what she had just seen. She doesn’t even realize that she isn’t moving anymore until her aunt gives a harsh tug and yells to her, “Come on, Natalia!”

The brunette woman looks around, dragging her shocked niece with her, and looks for her brother and his wife and son. She tries to have hope that they have already made it out of the palace and are just waiting for her. She doesn’t even know where to begin looking for them. And her only priority at the moment is to keep her niece safe and take her away from the palace.

Green eyes finally open after a moment and Natalia lets out a cry of, “Where’s Mama? Papa? Alyosha!” as she is dragged behind her aunt.

Darya looks close to tears and though every inch of her being is saying to look for her family, she knows that she has to take Natalia to safety. So she tries to pull her niece once more. “We’ll find them, Natasha! But first we have to leave!”

The girl freezes, eyes wide and staring at her aunt. “My music box!” She breathes out in pure distress. As soon as the words are out of her mouth she’s yanking away and running as quickly as she can to her room, dodging people and ignoring as everyone screams.

“Natasha! Natalia, no! Come back!” Darya screams, dashing after the child. She cares not that she is shoving people out of her way, far too concerned about taking Natalia to safety and finding their family.

Natalia runs until she’s back in her room and kneeling down at her realistic model of St. Basil’s Cathedral, pulling the small music box out from within it. Darya runs in after her, doesn’t think as she grabs Natalia’s fur lined coat and hurriedly begins to tug it onto Natalia, just thinking to herself, _‘She’ll freeze out there in just her gown!’_ and yells out, “Hurry, hurry! Come quickly, Natasha!”

Natalia stumbles as she tries to continue moving while pulling her coat on, the music box gripped tightly in hand. Neither notice the wall sliding open, a pair of deep brown eyes watching for a moment.

Yelena freezes in the small passageway as she hears voices. She places one hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing and the other over her heart, terrified that it’s the revolutionaries just a few feet away from her with nothing but a wall separating them from her. But then she recognizes the voice of the princess and nearly slides to the floor as relief courses through her.

She doesn’t know if it’s loyalty to the royal family or just adrenaline that forces her to open the entrance and slip into the room and gently tug on the princess’s coat.

Natalia lets out a yell, Darya jerking her behind her, shielding her niece from the potential threat. Yelena just stares wide eyed and tugs on Darya’s arm with her own cry of, “Come quick! The servants passages!” The child shoves at the royals and they soon take the hint to hurriedly move, only pausing for half a breath when they hear men yelling down the hall.

Yelena pales and gives a final shove. “Go! Go quick!"

Darya gives a worried glance to the girl, hating that she is staying behind, but tugs her niece. The tug on her hand and shove on her back cause Natalia to stumble, her music box falling to the floor.

She turns sharply with a cry of, “My music box!”

But neither Darya or Yelena let her back into the room. The blonde maid glares slightly, the fear making her bold, and heart racing as she hears the men getting closer yet. “ _Go_!”

Natalia looks heartbroken for a moment but does as commanded and soon she and her aunt are running down the hidden passages that she had never known existed.

Yelena lets out a sigh of relief and quickly slams the entrance closed moments before three men burst into the room, guns aimed at her.

“Where are they?” One of the men yells, eyes scanning the room as if expecting to find the princess and Tzar’s sister hiding. Yelena says nothing, just tries to cease her trembling. “Where are they girl?” He repeats in a snappy way.

The child picks up the vase to her left and throws it with all of the strength she possesses. A smirk graces her lips for just a second as it makes contact with one of the men but disappears quickly as another hits her with his gun. She lets out a yelp and collapses, seeing double with stars flickering as everything begins to grow dark at the edges of her vision.

She doesn’t realize that she’s lying on the princess’s music box and the men don’t find the princess or her aunt and quickly turn to leave, grabbing as much of Natalia’s forgotten jewels that surely cost a small fortune that they can carry, and go back to join the rest of the revolutionaries, leaving the unconscious maid lying in the princess’s room.

~oOo~

There are too many people in the streets, running and screaming and shoving others out of their way and amongst the chaos Natalia can only to herself, “It’s still snowing.’

“Hurry, Natasha! We’re almost there!” Darya says, gripping her niece’s hand tightly.

The young princess just continues trying to keep up, forcing herself to run faster and ignore the pain in her legs from all of the running, the pain in her heart at having dropped her music box, the pain at being unable to even spot her parents or baby brother. It’s almost a relief when the slowly moving train comes to view and a few people begin helping them.

Darya is the first being pulled onto the train and she nearly screams in frustration when the people helping her don’t even listen as she yells, “Help Natalia first!” Tears begin to gather as the train moves quicker and Natalia is still not on the train. “Help her! Help Natalia!”

“Aunt Dasha!” Natalia cries out, reaching her hand out, trying to keep the tears away.

Her aunt reaches out, ignoring as people try to pull her back, and grasps her niece’s hand. “I have you darling! Just hold onto my hand and don’t let go!” Another set of hands reach out to take hold of the young princess but the train is moving too quickly now and Natalia can’t keep up.

“Aunt Dasha!” Natalia screams as she stumbles and falls to the ground. She hits her head on the train tracks and the world goes dark, the last thing she hears being a worried and terrified, “Natalia! _Natalia_!”

People continue running everywhere, ignoring the girl who lies in the snow, thinking her one of the unfortunate casualties much like many others. None realize it is their princess.

~oOo~

The year is 1917 when Imperial Russia begins to crumble to the ground. 

A girl with blonde hair falling out of her once neat braids wakes up in the palace, confused and only mildly disoriented until the memories come flooding back. She stands shakily and nearly leaves the princess’s room until she sees the music box that the princess had tried so desperately hard to take with her and thinking that if nothing else, perhaps she could sell it sometime in the future for bread. So with that thought in mind, she slips it into the pocket on her flour stained apron.

The people still in the palace ignore her, sparing her a weary glance before going back to whatever it is they were doing. She sees a few people that she recognizes as other servants, crying, but continues silently walking through the palace, keeping to the walls and for once being happy for her small size.

A boy crying over a bloody body makes her pause momentarily and watch. He’s blonde, a handful of years older than her, and she recognizes him as the boy who was being given a glass of champagne. She’s not sure if it’s just the shock of the night or the fact that she just needs someone with her that makes her go over to him.

He jerks as she sits beside him and wipes his face, smearing blood and tears. “He’s my brother. I lost my brother.”  And he’s bowing his head over the brunette and bloody man again.

Yelena worries her bottom lip between her teeth before slowly saying, “I lost my parents.” He just lets out a sigh that almost sounds choked. “My name is Yelena.”

“Vladimir,” he offers quietly.

Meanwhile a girl with red hair that is drying in clumps wanders the streets of St. Petersburg. She doesn’t know who she is looking for or why she’s out on the streets but she keeps looking for whoever it is that she knows she needs to find.

People avoid her, thinking her an unlucky victim of the night and leaving her be for the most part. A gust of wind chills her and she tugs her coat around her even tighter in an attempt to keep warm.

She continues walking, keeping to herself and shivering, until the sun begins to rise. She stares up at the sky with the barest hint of a smile gracing her features. The sun reminds her of someone, a laugh, a beaming child whose face won’t come to mind, the nickname ‘солнышко’. But then right as she’s about to remember a name, the right name, her mind goes blank and she lets out a weary sigh.

A woman watches her, a look of surprise on her face, before slowly going over to her. “Hello, little one,” she says slowly, still not sure if she is speaking to her princess.

Natalia jerks her head up and stares wide eyed up at the old woman. “Hello,” she says after a moment’s pause, deciding that this woman can surely not be be a danger to her.

The woman cracks a smile, warm and tender and promising nothing but kindness. “Are you lost dear?”

Natalia frowns and gives a small shrug. “I’m not sure?” She asks, brows knitted together in annoyance. “I can’t remember.”

“What’s your name, dear?”

A memory of a woman screaming in fright flickers to mind and the child blurts out with sureness, “Natalia.”

The gray haired woman frowns slightly, reaches her hand out, and says, “Why don’t you come with me? Come out of the cold.”

A pause as Natalia debates with herself. Then decides to trust her and takes her hand.

“I’ll keep you safe. I promise,” the woman says, smiling down softly at the small princess. Natalia just beams at her and lets herself be led out of the cold.


	2. Journey to the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a long ten years and everyone changes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So:   
> \- Dottie changes her name from 'Darya' to 'Dorothy' in this chapter.  
> \- Yelena and Vladimir grow up with Ivan 'the Strange' Somodorov from the Marvel book 'Forever Red'.  
> \- Pyotr Starkovsky is from Yelena's comics. He grew kind of infatuated with her, went to a sex club where he was killed by Petra. In the comics.   
> This got really way too long. I'm so sorry.  
> Trying to combine everything (history/the comics/the movie) is kind of fun but also a lot to work with? So... yeah. Chapter two.   
> Enjoy!

Darya is almost completely sure that time when news arrives two days after the attack on the Peterhof Palace that the royal family of Russia is dead. Darya collapses to the floor with a cry, the letter in hand, and refuses to believe it until a man hands her pictures that had been taken of her brother’s body. A picture of Olga’s, bloody and almost completely disfigured. Sweet precious little Alexei. She can’t even bear to look at them any longer and throws them into the fire. She does note to herself with hope that there is no picture nor news of little Natalia. 

She stays in Lithuania for another month before finally leaving for New York at Peggy’s insistence from a letter. She had hoped that upon her return everything would right itself, that perhaps it was all just a nightmare even though after a month in Lithuania of dreaming and hoping she knows it won’t happen. But in fact things seem to even be falling into chaos in the United States as a panic takes over. A panic they later dub as ‘The Red Scare’, terrified that communism will leak from Russia and invade their nation. 

Darya breaks into tears and feels unsafe everywhere, no matter where she goes or no matter how much Peggy tries to hold her and console her. 

“Dasha, darling, I promise that everything will be alright,” Peggy says softly, holding onto the Russian woman. 

Darya just shakes her head and looks at her wife. “How? How will it ever be alright?” Peggy says nothing.

A few days pass and Darya decides it would probably be best if she were to change her name to sound more American. She changes it to Dorothy and Peggy calls her ‘Dottie’ with a bright grin and warm laugh that makes Darya, Dorothy now, feel as though perhaps she is right, perhaps the world will be better soon. 

She advertises a reward for her beloved niece to be returned to her and it’s two years before the spark of hope she carries in her heart ignites into a flame as a girl is brought to her and Peggy. Dottie rushes down the stairs of the extravagant house but freezes as she enters the living room to see a girl no older than twelve sitting on the couch. She has a likeness to Natalia, that much is clear, but she is not her niece. And Dottie glares at the wall and spits out, “Leave.”

The flame of hope is extinguished only to be rekindled many times over the years as more imposters come forward. Every time a girl is sent away she feels as though her heart is breaking all over again and she knows that without Peggy with her she would have been consumed by heartbreak. 

~oOo~

Yelena and Vladimir wander together for some time in the palace, doing their best to avoid everyone, until they run into an older man who used to be a palace guard but had clearly joined the Red’s side. His name is Ivan Somodorov and his odd behavior leads the two blondes to dub him as ‘Ivan the Strange’ behind his back. 

Ivan raises them, though that is a very big stretch, and attempts to teach Vladimir to forget the ways of a noble born. It takes much time and many smacks to both the back of Vladimir’s head and his large ego but eventually it works out well enough. The blonde children learn quickly that Ivan is more than just a soldier. He works with the new government, travels often, leaving them with a friend of his, Pyotr Starkovsky. Until the children are older anyway. 

At first Yelena and Vladimir had a mild distaste for each other but as time goes on they lean on each other, usually just emotionally and mentally but sometimes even physically, for comfort and it does not take much time for either to the other as their best friend. At first she had hated him for the way he felt inclined to treat her, as if she were still a servant. But not just any servant, his own personal one. 

The first time he does it, he snaps his fingers at her at breakfast and points towards his bedroom. “My bed needs to be made!” He says in annoyance since she should have done it already according to him. 

Yelena only has enough time to scowl at him and open her mouth to attempt to snap back a retort but Ivan beats her to it with an annoyed huff and a pop to Vladimir’s head.

“Ow!” Vladimir yelps, hand to the back of his head and now glaring at the taller man. 

“You are no longer nobility, boy,” Ivan states, eyes narrowed in a harsh glare that could rival the coldness outside. “You’d best better get used to your place in the world, lest I throw you back out to it.” And with that threat said, he leaves the children to eat in silence. 

Vladimir quickly learns that he no longer has any type of say whatsoever in this life. He hates it as he watches Yelena adapt quickly. He doesn’t hide his distaste for her at all and Ivan doesn’t care at all about what the children do, too preoccupied with whatever business it is that he does. Yelena cares not for his distaste of her, choosing to go about the life she’s been dealt.

It’s almost two years, when Vladimir is nearly fourteen and Yelena ten, before the two children even have a civil conversation. And it's only by pure chance since Vladimir is wandering the halls late at night, careful to keep quiet since he knows that if Ivan were to catch him out of bed so late he would most likely be sent back to bed with his ears ringing from a hard smack to his head. He's only just barely snuck from his bedroom when he hears it, a soft sniffling and hiccups being smothered into a pillow. He knows the sound well. It's one he's heard himself make nearly every night since the attack on the palace. 

He recognizes the sounds and easily notes that they are coming from the room that has been gifted to Yelena. Quietly he moves to her doorway, giving a soft knock with only two knuckles to the door, and then he waits. 

Seconds tick by and feel like nearly an eternity before she is opening the door just a few centimeters, eyes narrowed before she even had the door opening; of course she knew that it wasn't Ivan. Ivan didn't knock, saying that it was his home so it was not needed that he knock before entering a room in his own home.

"What do you want?" She hisses out, barely audible.

Vladimir leans forward slightly and breathes out questioningly in concern, "Are you alright?"

This just makes her arch an eyebrow before she's rolling her eyes at him. "What do you care?" 

The blonde teenager says nothing, just shrugs. A few moments more and she sighs, leaning against the wall. 

"I miss my mama and papa," she relented. 

He nods in understanding. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks looking awkward. He stares down, refusing to meet her gaze.

She thinks about letting him shuffle for a few more moments but ultimately shows him mercy and opens her door wider, a silent invitation for him to come in. 

Both are careful to keep quiet. If Ivan sees them awake and Vladimir in Yelena's bedroom they both are more than fully aware that he'll throw them out. And thus their nights begin to become filled with nearly silent meetings, switching from Yelena's room to Vladimir's and back again. They form a camaraderie and soon are much closer, even beginning to consider the other a best friend of sorts. It's the only spark that brings light to their now dull lives.

~oOo~

The snow that blankets the earth in glittering powder comforts Natalia. It's been several weeks since the old woman had taken her hand and led her inside her home. When Natalia had asked for her name the woman hadn't really given a proper answer, just laughed gently and sat Natalia on the couch as she could begin making tea. 

"Natalia. You look so much like my little granddaughter," she said, offhandedly and sounding quite melancholy. 

Natalia wrinkled her nose in annoyance at her question being shrugged off but quickly schooled her features so she doesn't appear annoyed. It wouldn't do to have her host upset with her petulance after all. And though she does not know the woman, she can't help but feel concerned for her. She did not know her very well but the woman had been nothing but the pure definition of kindness since finding her and so Natalia was worried and curious about what was making her so sad now.

The woman continued speaking, "She died just a few months ago. Pneumonia you see. My son was lost in the war. I feel that the loss of her husband and then her child caused for my daughter to pass from the heartbreak."

Natalia tilted her head and said nothing, just watched as the woman moved to a picture of a girl who did in a way look much like Natalia herself. "Her name was Anastasia. My little Nastal," the woman said, handing the picture to Natalia. 

Natalia looked at the picture, brows furrowed in confusion, not fully understanding why the woman was telling her all of this. A few moments more and she is handing the picture back. "She's very beautiful, ma'am," she says, never one to forget her manners even if she doesn't remember why she must remain so polite.

The woman smiles sorrowfully and places the picture frame back in its spot and just as quickly as she had turned sad, she was soon enough once more smiling warmly at Natalia and saying as kindly as ever, "How would you like your tea, dear?"

The child frowned and tried to think, tried to remember. Did she like tea? How did she like it? The woman remained patient as ever while Natalia tried to remember if or how she preferred the drink. Finally, she settled with an unsure, "With honey and lemon?" A pause then as if an afterthought, "Please." 

The cup is fixed how she asked for and then handed to her. The child cautiously takes a small sip then smiles softly and hums in pleasure. 

"Yes. I like it with honey and lemon. Thank you."

Time moves fairly quickly for her and she is almost happy with the woman who treats Natalia as if she were her child and Natalia finds herself growing comfortable in a way. She still feels as though she is missing something, still wishes her family would find her already. 

But soon enough the comfort of this life is taken from her as the old woman falls dangerously ill. 

Natalia holds the woman's hand tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks as she chokes out, "Please don't leave me! You can't leave me too!"

The woman gives a comforting squeeze to the child's hand but all it does is make Natalia cry more. The woman thinks about promising that she'll get well but can't bring herself to lie to the young princess. So she instead says, "You are made for much better things, Natalia."

Natalia wipes at her eyes with her sleeve and sniffles but doesn't say anything.

The woman opens her mouth to speak but quickly covers her mouth as she breaks into a coughing fit. She's quick to hide her palm from Natalia's view. It would only be cause for her to cry even more if she were to see the blood specks. 

A few moments pass where she catches her breath and Natalia sniffles. "When they come to take you away-" the child chokes on a sob but as much as it pains her, she ignores it and continues speaking, "tell them..." she lowers her voice, "tell them that you are my granddaughter. My little Nastal."

Natalia lets out a small noise in confusion. "Why?" She asks quietly.

"So they won't take you somewhere worse than an orphanage," the woman says, quieter still.

When she falls asleep that night she only lets a couple of tears fall before allowing herself to fall into a peaceful slumber. She worries that her last attempt at protecting the princess will be in vain but she can't help but hope that little Natalia will be safe.

A soldier comes to take her when the woman dies and when he stares at her, eyes narrowed and grip on his gun so tight that his knuckles are white, and asks, “What is your name, girl?”

Natalia stares up at him, glances to the gun, blinks, remembers what the woman had told her to do, and says softly, “Anastasia.” She bites her lip and clasps her hands together tightly in her lap. “She was my babushka,” she lies easily enough, answering his unasked question of how she was related to the now dead woman. 

His grip slackens and he now looks at her sadly. “Any other relatives?”

She shakes her head, not raising her eyes from the floor.

And he nods and sighs, wishing he could help her, but then says, “Get your things. I will take you to the orphanage.”

The soldier takes her to the orphanage where she is then introduced to a woman named Comrade Volkova and who appeared to be even older than her 'babushka' and who Natalia, ' _ Nastal now,' _ she reminds herself, quickly learns is as stone faced as a gargoyle and harsher than a frigid cold winter in Siberia. 

Comrade Volkova calls herself a good communist and she does her best to instill this into Nastal and the other orphans. She considers how they act to be a direct reflection on her and thus wants for them to be better communists than she herself is.

Nastal receives her first lesson in how to be a good communist on her third day. Comrade Volkova takes her coat from her saying, "This coat is worth enough that it will keep everyone here well fed for a month." 

She had reached for the coat but Nastal had held the fur lined coat closer to her chest, gripping it so tightly that her knuckles were a pale white. She shook her head, hair swishing back and forth and gave a cry back of, "But it is mine! It is one of the only things I have left of my life!" 

Comrade Volkova had narrowed her eyes and snatched the coat from the child. "It is worth enough to keep this home fed for a month!" She insisted, now shaking the coat in her hands. "Do you want your fellow comrades to starve, Nastal?"

The girl looked to the floor, partially from embarrassment but mostly to hide the tears budding in her eyes, and shook her head.

"Well?" Comrade Volkova asked, arms crossing over her chest.

She and Nastal had had this conversation many times already despite the girl only being there three days. Nastal seemed to think she was above everyone else in the orphanage and it had led to many a conversation regarding how she was to properly speak to Comrade Volkova. 

Nastal pursed her lips but stood straight and looked directly into the elder woman's eyes. "No, Comrade Volkova, I do not wish for my fellow comrades to go hungry," she parroted back. 

Comrade Volkova nodded, pleased that little Nastal was learning quickly. "Good girl." 

Life goes on for Nastal and she finds herself growing relatively used to her new name and her new life. Many of the children grow with her, very few are adopted, and Nastal finds herself hoping that she won't be adopted. She wants to find her family. 

A glance down to the necklace she wears and she holds the charm tightly. She had been thankful and very surprised that Comrade Volkova had not taken the necklace from her. It was worth far much more than the coat had. But Nastal thanks God for the small blessing. 

Though she does not know how she knows that she must she continues her prayers every night, she does them. It was something the babushka had never said anything against but something that Comrade Volkova had hit her over the head for the first time she had heard Nastal say, "Praise God."

She tells Nastal that religion is nothing but superstition and now an enemy of the people and government. And after the stern lecture, she never hears the child utter a single word regarding religion. 

Until she's checking in on the children one night only to stop outside the room where Nastal sleeps. She hears whimpers and moans and incoherent cries. The door is slowly opened and Comrade Volkova looks on in worry as Nastal tosses and turns in her sleep for a few moments more before shooting up with a scream that surprisingly doesn't wake anyone else. 

"What? What is it?" Comrade Volkova asks uncharacteristically worried as she rushes over to the clearly frightened child. 

Nastal cries and throws herself into Comrade Volkova's arms once the elder woman is close enough and stutters out, "T- the palace!" 

Comrade Volkova's eyes widen but she says nothing, just lets the child cry for a few moments more as she strokes the child's hair. Then nudges her to lie back down. "Sleep, Nastal. It was just a nightmare." 

The child nods and allows for herself to be tucked back into bed, too tired to find Comrade Volkova's behavior unusual. The woman shuts the door as she leaves the room and stays beside the door for a few moments more where she just barely catches the utterances of, "Mama... Papa..." 

Her heart tugs at the way that the child sounds so completely lost. But then she sighs as she hears Nastal's bed creak as the child clearly slips from it to the floor where she lets out a quiet prayer of, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me."

Comrade Volkova takes this time to slip to her own rooms, the prayer and mention of the palace haunting her and making her wonder, _ 'Could Nastal be of nobility?' _

Comrade Volkova sees the necklace and allows the child the small comfort it provides because obviously the child needs something.

This doesn't stop some of the older children from wanting it for themselves though. And one day, many months later when the snow has finally melted and flowers are beginning to spring from the ground, Comrade Volkova glances out of the window to see Nastal kicking another child in the shin. 

Once the boy hits the ground she punches him in the face before she is yanking her necklace back from him. When Comrade Volkova goes outside to stop the fight from escalating further she sees that little Nastal has done far more damage to the three boys than they had managed to do to her. 

One boy, Nikolai, has a black eye. While Peter, the boy she had just kicked, has a bleeding nose. Mikhail is holding his bruised jaw and is glaring harshly at Nastal. Nastal herself only has a few scrapes on her, dirt from where had been shoved to the ground and grass stuck in her red locks. 

Comrade Volkova punishes them all with extra chores and they all four are to go without dinner that night. She narrows her eyes and attempts to look annoyed though even she cannot deny that she is amused at the way Nastal carries herself as though she'd just won the world itself as the boys glare at her.

The way the child holds herself, back ramrod straight and the way she speaks occasionally, "Might I have something else for dinner please?", her flawless table manners. Why, it was clear to any that she was not used to this life. 

Which confused Comrade Volkova as she knew that this orphanage she ran was one of the better off ones in all of St. Petersburg. So that led to the question, what life had Nastal been born into.

Comrade Volkova worries that if, and it is becoming quite clear that she is, Nastal is of noble standing that the girl could one day be in true danger. A look to the news and any can see this. She wishes that the girl's family would find her but also is glad that they haven't. It wouldn't do to have a child in danger. Comrade Volkova can be cold, she will not ever deny it, but she is no child abuser and would not wish harm upon any child.

No matter how annoying said child may be.

Nastal continues growing. 

And giving Comrade Volkova an annoying headache. Comrade Volkova does her duty though and raises her the best that she can. She watches as Nastal blooms into a gorgeous young woman and watches as every boy falls in love with her. Watches as Nastal never once pays a single one of them any speck of attention. 

Peter, after she had broken his nose when they were children, had fallen so in love with her. And when he left at sixteen and promised young thirteen year old Nastal that he would come visit her and one day make a stable living she had just nodded and told him, "I wish you the best. I know some of the other young children will be excited to see you." 

She doesn't even realize that Peter is sad at her brushing him off. Comrade Volkova rolls her eyes. 

Nastal has big dreams for herself, says she won't be stuck here forever working in the factories or at the fisher's village. The moment she has the funds, she's leaving Russia to go to America. The necklace reading ' _ Together in New York _ ' was proof that she had family. She was sure of it. 

Comrade Volkova scoffed as she heard Nastal telling the other children this whenever they would ask of her plans for the future. Nastal in America? Out of Russia? The very idea was laughable. The girl would never make it.

~oOo~

Ivan the Strange gives his two wards everything that may be beneficial to them and thus be beneficial for him. He has the best tutors hired. Gives them many books. When they ask him one day why he does this for them he chuckles and states simply, "You two may one day be of use to me."

The topic is dropped and they never ask him questions again regarding his treatment of them.

Their late night rendezvous from each other's rooms continues for years and Ivan is none the wiser.

Vladimir and Yelena are seventeen and thirteen when Ivan decides to take them on a diplomatic trip out of the country for the first time. They travel to Poland, Lithuania, Belarus. When they visit Ukraine months later Yelena looks on excitedly. She grabs hold of Vladimir's wrist and tugs gently before letting go and rushing off away from Ivan and the men he was talking to. Vladimir lets her lead him around Kiev excitedly.

“My parents were from Kiev,” Yelena explains with a small warm smile. “When we were not working in the palace we would come back to Ukraine.”

When the time comes for them to leave she closes herself off and makes herself appear to be unbothered until she is in her room where she cries silently. Vladimir only knows she cried because he's come to know her very well as time has passed. He pretends as though he doesn't notice her melancholiness as they travel back to Russia. 

When they are fourteen and eighteen they go to America with Ivan where Vladimir is quick to wander away with Yelena following after him this time. “If only to rescue you should you get into trouble, Vova," she says in boredom. 

They wander and quickly go through the small allowance that Ivan had given them, spending every bit of it on candy from a convenience store. 

As fate would have it they are not the only two to decide to wander away from their caretaker and they collide into a blind boy, all three of them landing in a heap with Yelena on the boy and Vladimir crushing them both.

Vladimir pushes himself to stand as Yelena kicks her legs in an attempt to shove him away. She slaps his offered hand away and stands, brushing dirt from her skirt and flushing a light pink. Vladimir reaches down and helps the boy stand, apologizing for himself and Yelena quietly.

The blind boy just laughs and accepts the help. "It's okay. Not your fault. I should have been watching where I was going." 

Yelena chokes on a giggle while Vladimir just freezes, unsure of what to say or how to react. 

Until the boy huffs and wrinkles his nose saying, "That was a joke. Feel free to laugh. Ha ha?"

Only then does Vladimir scoff out a laugh. "Идиот."

Yelena rolls her eyes while the other teenager just sticks his tongue out, not particularly fond of being made fun of but taking the jest well enough. 

"My name is Matthew by the way. You can call me Matt. What are your names?" Matt asks curiously. 

They introduce themselves and Matt offers to take them around the city saying he and his dad are on vacation visiting a distant aunt. The two blondes quickly accept his offer and the trio begin wandering. 

While walking around a local park they overhear the conversation of a couple holding a newspaper that claims the grand duchess Natalia of Russia is still alive. 

Vladimir scoffs, eyes rolling. "She is not. There is no way that any of the Romanovs survived." 

Matt shrugs and worries his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. Then says quietly, "I kind of hope so. My aunt's wife was the princess's aunt. Did you know they're offering a reward for her return?"

Again, Vladimir just scoffs. Yelena on the other hand stays silent, wondering how the princess and her aunt had gotten separated. It wasn't very surprising that she had never heard news of the princess still being alive but she still couldn't help but wonder how she'd never heard of the girl missing. She wondered if Ivan knew of the rumors.

She won’t ask. 

Matt tells them of the reward and how two years ago a girl had come forward claiming to be the lost princess but one look at her and the duchess had known she was a pretender. 

Later that night when they're re-entering the hotel Ivan quickly finds them and smacks them both over the head, huffing in annoyance at them and their shenanigans. The blondes just roll their eyes and dutifully drone out the apologies that he wants. 

The journey back to Russia leaves Vladimir sea sick and hating trips by sea all over again, while Yelena loves it; the smell of the ocean, the peacefulness of watching the sunset, the rocking of the ship on the waves. 

Once they are back in St. Petersburg it's not long before Ivan is leaving them with Pyotr as he travels to Moscow for a trip that lasts just over half a month. 

Yelena and Vladimir find themselves celebrating Ivan being away with Vladimir teaching Yelena an old waltz that he never quite truly learned how to do correctly in the living room. They step on each other's feet and laugh every time. 

Vladimir spins her and dips her back, grinning in amusement as she laughs. A glance up and he sees Pyotr watching them from the doorway. Vladimir's grin fades in favor of a narrow eyed glare. Pyotr slowly tears his eyes away from the teenage girl and looks at Vladimir and after a few moments under the heated glare he turns to leave them alone. 

Yelena doesn't notice.

The two are taken back to America a year later and when Ivan sends them to a store for cigarettes for himself they are once again bumping into Matt. Though this time, it doesn't end with the three of them on the ground. 

Matt recognizes them as they begin talking to him and Vladimir can't help but think Matt's grown into his body over the past year. He's no longer stick thin and gangly. That's not to say he's not still thin or gangly, no, just not as much as he had been at the age of fourteen. 

Too much time has passed since the blondes had left for cigarettes and they both sigh as they say they need to be going and Matt quickly gives them his address with a faint blush on his ears so that they may stay in touch.

As expected Ivan is very annoyed when they return and he begins yelling at them. 

Yelena hopes that the man chokes on his cigarettes.

Ivan is shot dead six months after they return back to Russia and Yelena and Vladimir feel freer with his tyrannical hovering gone than they have in years.

~oOo~

Comrade Volkova does her duty in raising Nastal. Gets her a job in the fisherman's village. She gives directions on how to make it to the village while dragging the sixteen year old by the scarf that she herself had knitted as a gift for the girl. 

The other children shout out their farewells and Nastal gives a very small smile to them and waves. 

Comrade Volkova rolls her eyes and places her hands on her hips as it becomes apparent that the young woman hasn't listened to a single word she has said. "Are you listening to me, girl?" She asked, already knowing the answer. 

Nastal sighs, expression falling from kind to bored. "Yes, Comrade."

The woman waved her hands. "Pah! These past six years you have been the biggest headache to me! I have fed you! Raised you as my own! Clothed y-"

"Clothed me. Kept the roof over my head," Nastal says, a small smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth as the old woman glares at her. 

"How is it that you can remember all of that but not your own name," Nastal bites her lip but says nothing, "or even your family?" Comrade Volkova asks, unlocking the gates to the orphanage. She utters a curse under breath at the cold weather but sighs in relief as the lock opens easily enough.

"I do have a clue to my family," Nastal says, pulling her necklace from under her shirt. 

Comrade Volkova just laughs harshly and croaks out patronizingly, "Oh yes. Together in New York. You are going to go to New York to be with your family." 

Nastal just nods, not even reacting at all to the jibes. 

The woman tosses the charm back against the girl's coat. "Pah! Together in New York! It is best you learn to live with the life that has been given to you Nastal! Learn your place in life and be grateful, girl!" 

She shoves the young woman and locks the gate. Nastal just glares but doesn't even turn back as she walks away. Comrade Volkova watches her leave until the cold seeps to her bones and makes her re-enter the orphanage. She can't help but notice that Nastal never once promised to come visit the orphanage like many of the past orphans had and Comrade Volkova sighs as sadness overwhelms her for a brief moment.

Despite everything, Nastal had been a good child. Brattish at times yes, but still a good child. Just not a good communist. And if Comrade Volkova were honest, she wouldn't be surprised at all if Nastal were to leave Russia for New York and actually manage to make something of herself.

~oOo~

It's not long after Ivan's untimely death that Vladimir is packing his things late at night and preparing to leave. He's already expecting Yelena to enter his bedroom and doesn't even twitch as she slips in. 

"What are you doing?" She asks quietly. 

Even though Ivan was dead and the small home empty but for them, old habits died hard.

Vladimir doesn't even stop moving. "I'm leaving. I won't stay here."

Yelena just raises an eyebrow and leans against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. "And where are we going?"

Vladimir pauses and looks at her in surprise for a moment then shakes his head and laughs softly; of course he knew Yelena would be going with him, it just still shocked him for a moment. "Anywhere is better than this place."

The young woman hums in thought then shrugs. "The cold streets of St. Peterburg are better than this place?"

A sigh from the blonde man and he shrugs.He gives a half answer of. “I don't like the way Pyotr stares at you. As if you're some sort of treat he can steal away." 

Yelena scowls as she thinks about the other man. Vladimir wasn't wrong, Pyotr did stare at her in ways that made her skin crawl. He never did anything, but just the fact that he stared at her and watched her whenever she was in the room was enough to unnerve her completely. 

"I can handle myself just fine," she says rather than agreeing with her friend. 

Vladimir just rolls his eyes and continues tossing his things into bags. "I am very well aware, Lenosha. I'm not an idiot."

Yelena drums her fingers against her arm then says, "I have a great idea about what we can do, too." When Vladimir raises an eyebrow she smirks and moves to sit at the edge of his bed, lowering her voice almost conspiratorially. "We could find the lost duchess."

Vladimir chokes on a laugh. "Ha! We can't. She's dead. Remember?"

He doesn't even need to ask. Both remember the night the Revolution broke out in the palace. Both had lost everything and only gained each other. 

"We could train a girl. Take her to America and pass her off as the princess, Vova. We can get the reward money," Yelena insists.

The blonde frowns then smirks as what she's saying clicks in his mind. "We're going to lie?" She just raises an eyebrow and leans back slightly and he laughs at her. "Alright. Let's find us our lost princess so we may reunite the duchess with her dear aunt!” He says dramatically, waving his hand as if he were introducing the princess at that very moment. 

They share looks and then Yelena says just as dramatically as he had, "Yes. It's only right to reunite someone with their lost family. I suppose that I'll go pack my things as well then."

And so with that decided, she stands and goes to her room to begin packing her things as well. She reaches into her closet and pulls out a box that held a pair of shoes. She reaches into one of the boots until she touches it, a small jewelry box made of gold with small rubies and emeralds and pearls adorning it. She debated with herself on whether or not she should just go ahead and sell it as it was worth much and it would give her and Vladimir more than enough funds to be able to afford a small place to stay. 

She ultimately decides to stuff it into a coat pocket, feeling as though it may instead come in handy in the future.

As the days turn to weeks and weeks to months they find a handful of girls that want to be passed off as the princess. They find only one, a year later, that shows promise. Yelena finds herself glad that Vladimir never fully let Ivan beat the nobility out of him as he tries to teach the girl the ways of royalty. 

Half an hour later though he’s glaring and yelling for Yelena to find another girl because, “This one will not be able to trick a duck into legitimately believing she is a princess! Ha!”

The two become conmen, and unbeknownst to them, they become quite famous conmen and it doesn’t take very long before many people in and outside of St. Petersburg learn of their plans to pass off a girl as the lost princess.

~oOo~

Nastal never once tells anyone her true name as she works herself exhausted for four years. She saves everything she can, buying just the bare minimum in an attempt to save even more for her tickets out of Russia. 

She's twenty when she's finally earned enough and it's early one morning when she steps out of the apartment building. It's snowing and it seems right in a way. She'd lost her family and old life on a snowy day ten years ago, it only seemed fair that it be snowing as she begins her journey to find them. 

So with one last deep breath, she raises one foot and slowly, almost delicately, plants one foot in front of the other as she steps out into the freshly fallen virgin snow that covers the wide path to her new future, almost cracking a smile as she does so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small things that really don't matter but I'm still adding:  
> \- I read somewhere and forgot to save my source but it said something along the lines of once you reached 16 (during this time period not really so much now) you were sort of kicked out of the orphanage? Hence why Natasha is leaving at 16 rather than after the full ten years.  
> \- I really really REALLY did not want to use the name 'Anastasia' as her fake name but the nickname of sorts for 'Anastasia' is 'Nastal' and 'Nastal' to me sounds a bit like 'Natalia' and so after much googling I sighed and just went with it.  
> -I kind of hurriedly added Matt because a part of the movie I didn't really get was how Vlad and Sophie knew each other and since Matt is my Sophie and Vladimir is my Vlad for this, I had to make up quick fake backstory.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about using 'Tatiana' as Nat's mom's name but my bestie suggested Olga and we liked it better (especially since Tatiana is one of my go to names usually.)  
> Alian is Nat's dad's name, as her name is Natalia Alianovna Romanova.  
> February 1917, the March Revolution took place in Petrograd, Russia, now St. Petersburg.  
> I'm not sure why, but I love cолнышко as a nickname and since the real Alexei Romanov was often called 'sunbeam' by his family, I felt that cолнышко was very fitting for this Alexei.


End file.
